


I'll Take Care of You

by gillesbiankind



Category: A Streetcar Named Desire - Tennessee Williams, The X-Files RPF
Genre: F/F, Lesbian Sex, RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2016-11-18
Packaged: 2018-08-31 16:26:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8585617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gillesbiankind/pseuds/gillesbiankind
Summary: Gillian gets hurt during a performance of Streetcar and Vanessa takes care of her...





	

**Author's Note:**

> My first ever fic so please go easy on me.

I saw the blood first. There was a trail of it along the stage. I followed its path and realized the source. Gillian’s knee was gushing. I gasped, not audibly as to keep in character but inside my head there was a worried inhale of breath.

My father, being a doctor, I was used to the sight of blood. It didn’t bother me. In fact, when I would injure myself as a child, I looked forward to father methodically tending to my wounds. Although my injuries were not intentional, I was not frightened whenever I would get a cut or bruise. I knew my father would take care of me. I do the same for my friends whenever they get hurt.

And Gillian was my friend, right? However, my concern stemmed from her fear of the liquid plasma that was now pooling in her shoes. I first met Gigi while working on Great Expectations. Right before a particularly physical scene, she mentioned how she would faint if she were to see blood whether hers or someone else’s. I giggled and she grinned. Despite her gray make up of Miss Havisham, her smile still radiated through. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you!”, I teased. But we were in the middle of a live performance of Streetcar and all I could do was say my lines to her as Blanche and not tend to her as Gillian, my friend.

She was pretty clever about it. She just didn’t look. If she didn’t look, she wouldn’t pass out. Gillian did her final pass around the stage, when Blanche is sent away. This time the gasps were audible and they were coming from the audience. It’s ok Gill, you’re almost done, I thought. 10 minutes later curtain call ended and I rushed to Gillian’s side backstage.

“Just put your arm around me, love” I reassured. “Don’t walk on it.”

“Jesus fucking Christ. Are you fucking kidding? Of course this had to happen right before a matinee day.” She grimaced angrily with her eyes closed.

I couldn’t help but think how small she looked at the moment. Even though Gillian was short in stature, I always thought of her as tall and strong. Stronger than myself. I smirked at her, but she couldn’t see since her eyes were shut. I think she was trying not to look at her knee still. However, suddenly her bright blue eyes flew open and glanced down. She slipped into unconsciousness and went limp in my arms.

I shouted, “Benedict! Ben! I need your help!”

Even though Gill was ridiculously light, I did not want her to fall on her injury. It could worsen. Ben untangled her from my shoulder and scooped her up. He walked away to lay her down in her dressing room. “We are calling the paramedics,” Benedict answered my worried glance, “The shows tomorrow will have to be canceled.” Benedict, the director and my mentor and friend, was wringing his hands in unease. All I could do was nod. I knew it was for the best, we just might have a difficult time getting her to stay home.

______________________________

The next day I stopped by a street market buying flowers and chili chocolates. I knew these were her favorites. But it was absurd how many people knew this. Every time a journalist asked what her guilty pleasure was, she always answered chocolate, chili chocolate in particular. Then she would be surprised at all the heaps of chocolate her fans brought her. I chuckled to myself thinking about how well this summed her up. It was adorable. It was…. making me blush. I shook my head trying to rid my mind of thoughts that were not really of a platonic nature.

I always had a crush on Gillian. I couldn’t help it. How could anyone? Never, had I shown that kind of interest with women, but with Gillian it was different. Whenever she was around, I was getting very good at hiding those feelings. I would still tease and nudge and touch but just as a close friend would do.

Taking a deep breath, I walked up the steps to her cozy London home. I knocked, but there was no answer. The door was unlocked, so I let myself in. “Gillian? G? Are you alright?” I called out.

“Oh fuck!” I heard coming from the kitchen. I came upon her sitting on the floor. I hurried over bending to help her up. “What happened?”

“I dropped my pain meds and tried to bend down to pick them up. And I got stuck.” She sounded tired and a bit defeated. She was also pouting, which gave me a warm feeling in my chest. I knew she wasn’t used to not being able to take care of herself. She didn’t like the feeling of helplessness.

I pulled her up and sat her down on a stool at the breakfast bar. With a frustrated sigh, she slumped and rested her chin in her hand. “Here, have some,” I said handing her the chili chocolate. Gill ripped it open and shoved a piece in her mouth. “Thanks, Noo.” Still chewing, she looked towards the ceiling with a sigh. They were glossy. Oh, no she’s tearing up.

I rushed towards her gripping her thighs to get her attention and stared into her sad eyes. She swallowed with a gulp not breaking eye contact. “Gillian, look at me. You are not weak because you're taking a day off. You are one of the strongest women I know. But right now, you need some rest.” A drop of clear liquid fell from one of those big blue eyes not breaking eye contact with mine, letting the tear splash her collarbone. I smirked with empathy and moved both my hands to cup her face. One of my thumbs swept her cheek to wipe away the sadness. I let go.

She nodded looking down and then back up. I smiled and tucked a stray hair behind her ear. Before I could pull my hand back, she caught my wrist in her grip. She began rubbing right at the tip of my ulna. She brought her other hand around, kissed my palm and brought it to her cheek. Stroking her own face with my hand.

I looked into her eyes. They were different now. Darker, almost predatory. She was not smiling nor frowning now, but her lips were slightly parted.

I took back control of my hand and began stroking her cheek. I grinned sheepishly. “Can you walk to the living room?” I asked. She nodded looking up at me, her lips still parted. I slipped my fingers in hers and brought her to the chaise lounge.

I gently pushed her down to sit on the edge. I got behind her, kneeling. I started to rub her shoulders. My lips came to her ear, “I’ll take care of you,” I whispered breathily. Gillian shivered and tensed for a second, then her body loosened and became completely relaxed. She then leaned back, planting her hands slightly behind her on the cushion. Her face was completely turned up towards the ceiling, with her long neck extended and the back of her head resting on my shoulder. My hands then ran along the sides of her neck and face and into her hair. “Mmmm,” she groaned, wetting her lips with her pink tongue and I felt it deep within the center of my body.

Oh, god. My pants were getting more soaked by the minute and she hadn’t even touched me. I took a deep breath and made my decision. I needed to feel her. All of her. I planted a chaste kiss on her cheek, right before her ear and blew into her ear canal. Her chest had become flush against her pale skin. I couldn’t believe I was doing this to her.

I brought my hands to rub the sides of her arms and then shoulders again. For a millisecond I paused, but only slightly. My fingers and palms ran down the base of her neck and collarbone to her chest. She gasped. It was definitely audible and I grinned mischievously.

I moved my arms around the sides of her and began kneading her breasts. I cupped them from underneath and brushed my thumb against her tight nipples. I almost felt like I already knew what they looked like. Whenever I was in a room with her and felt a chill, they would show up especially that left one which I was pinching between my thumb and forefinger at the moment. I smirked at the memory and brought my mouth to her neck where tendon meets bone. She squirmed to relieve the tension in between her legs. I hadn’t felt or seen it yet but I could smell her. She let out two labored breaths.

My hands left her chest and began moving downwards. I reached the edge of her shirt. “Can I take this off?” I asked, gripping the fabric. “Yes,” she said on an exhale. It was more of a request than an answer. From that, I knew she wanted the same things I did. I wouldn’t hesitate any longer. I pulled her t-shirt up over her head and threw it to the floor.

Still behind her, my fingers came round to unfasten her jeans. I reached inside with my right hand and could feel the damp heat radiating off of her. I did not bother to come back around in front to pull her trousers off, knowing that they would keep my hand tight against her. I slipped my hand into her pants like a glove. She was wet, dripping. For me. Knowing this, feeling it, had the same effect on me. With my index finger, I began stroking her, just on the edge of her opening. Her slow breaths evolved into panting and she thrust upward. I pushed the offending finger inside until I could feel the spongey wall of flesh. I pulled it out slightly and pushed in again, harder. “Ungh” she grunted.

I scooted my body closer to her from behind for some support and needed contact. Then without warning, I furiously began pumping in and out of her making my finger into a hook shape. “Yes, Noo, please!” I added my middle finger and started pumping even harder. After a brief moment, my thumb went to her clit and began brushing it increasing in intensity. I hadn’t realized, but I began to thrust into her strong back keeping rhythm with my hand buried inside her. “Oh yeah that’s it,” she yelled.

Again, bringing my mouth to her neck, I sucked hard. Her eyes flashed wide and her mouth went slack. I felt her inner walls gripping the digits inside. I slowed my pace, finally coming to a stop. I brought my fingers out and rested them on her stomach. My other hand stroking her face and hair. I embraced her body until she was still. “Thank you,” she mouthed with a smile.

I leaned into the back of the chair, bringing her with me. She was in my arms, but now was facing me, our legs intertwined. She started planting appreciative kisses all over my face and forehead. I giggled, hugging her small frame against me. Finally, her mouth met mine hungrily. She tasted sweet but spicy, smooth but tangy, chocolatey, like danger something new, but I felt safe. Our lips unlocked. I snuggled deeper into her personal space. We both sighed and fell asleep with smiles on our faces.


End file.
